


Painting a Little, Things for Myself Only

by golden_theo



Category: The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SUCH FLUFF, Wow, awkward adorable nick, talented gatsby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_theo/pseuds/golden_theo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While most of what Gatsby told Nick about his life on the way to lunch with Wolfsheim was a lie, a small part of it wasn't. Gatsby does know how to paint, but he hasn't shown anyone until now. </p><p>My first fic in a long time, so I hope you like it! Its very fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "NO ENTRY"

The day that I learned Gatsby trusted me above anyone else, was a crisp October day, when colorful leaves were falling to the ground like confetti, to mark the ending of the three month long celebration that is known to us as summer. 

We had gotten a late start that morning, due to the fact that neither of us wanted to leave the warm embrace of the other, and venture out of bed into the chilly morning air. But, at around ten o'clock we decided that we'd best get out of bed before we wasted our Sunday away.

Throughout our brunch of fried eggs, sausage, and buttered toast, Gatsby was oddly quiet. A thoughtful kind of quiet, like he was taking something into serious consideration. But what, I did not know. I was about to ask him with a curious smile what he was thinking about, but he suddenly threw down the napkin he was fidgeting with onto the table and stood up. 

"Come with me, Nick, I'd like to show you something." He flashed me his one-of-a-kind smile. 

"Oh, okay," I said, mouth still full of toast as I stood up and brushed the crumbs off of my, or actually, Gatsby's borrowed shirt. He took my hand and guided me up a flight of stairs and down several hallways until we reached a door marked "NO ENTRY." I had seen this door before and figured it was simply a collection of personal items that he didn't want anyone to be fooling around with. But as I watched him shift nervously on his feet in front of the door, I started to think there must be something drastically more important being kept secret and locked behind it. 

I looked at him carefully, patiently waiting for him to do or say something, anything. After a minute or so, he took up my other hand as well, and looking anywhere but my face he said, "You remember that little spiel I gave you, on the way to lunch with Wolfsheim?" 

"Why, yes I believe I do."

"Well, old sport, not all of the story was from my imagination only."

"Oh?" At this point I was both confused and intrigued, which part of the story could he possibly mean? Gatsby must have read these thoughts on my face when he finally looked at me, because he laughed gently. He released one of my hands and dug into his pants pocket, out of which he pulled a small silver key. Now, he released my other hand as well and took a hesitant step towards the door, as if it would bite him if he weren't careful enough. He didn't open it right away, in fact I had the impression that he was going to change his mind and I would be left forever wondering about the mystery behind the "NO ENTRY" door. 

Finally, though, he took the key up, inserted it into the lock and turned it, all at a snails pace. After taking a deep breath, he turned the silver knob in his nervous hands and pushed the door open. Stepping aside, he gestured for me to enter the room first. My heard was beating fast with suspense as I finally stepped inside the forbidden room.


	2. A Hidden Talent

"Oh, Jay..."

I had had my breath taken away, for what surrounded me in that large room was dozens of magnificent paintings. Everything from fields of grass in the sunlight, to an intricate vase casting a shadow on the table below, to flowers so vibrant and real that I could almost smell their fresh scent, and also a portrait of a younger Daisy.

Suddenly I was reminded of a specific part of Jay's story that he told me in the car that day, _"...collecting jewels, chiefly rubies, hunting big game, painting a little, things for myself only..."_

So, Jay could paint after all. I chuckled softly to myself, still staring wide eyed at the amazing displays of artistic talent that surrounded me. I walked up to one specific piece that had caught my eye, and soon realized it was a painting of my old cottage next door. The point of view from which my house was painted told me he was seeing it from up above, in his tower, where he seemed to like to watch me when I wasn't aware. I was lost in the detail of the leaves on the trees and the flowers that hung over the entrance to my tiny home when Gatsby finally spoke up, startling me.

"You are the only person I have ever shown my paintings to."

I turned to look at him in surprise, "Really? You didn't even show Daisy her portrait?" _Not showing anyone these paintings,_ I thought, _is certainly a crime to humanity_.

"No, old sport, you see..." he started, looking sadly at the portrait of Daisy I had mentioned, and then back to me, " I never quite thought I was good enough. That my paintings would be good enough to impress other people, Daisy especially."

To say that I was taken aback by this uttering from Gatsby was an understatement. I walked over to where he was looking dolefully at the floor and wrapped one arm around his neck while my other hand cupped his cheek, "You are absolutely ridiculous." At this he gave me a rather confused look, to which I smiled, "These are, with out a doubt, the most beautiful paintings I have ever seen."

His confusion turned to joy and he smiled brightly at me before wrapping his strong arms around my waist, "Maybe I aught to start painting again, then?" He said quietly, his face so close to mine that our noses touched. My hand that was, at one point, against his cheek, was now at the back of his neck. My thumb brushing over the soft hair at his nape.

"Definitely," I whispered back, returning the smile before kissing him softly on the lips, and he kissed me back, just as soft. His sturdy grip around me tightened and I was pulled into the warmth of his chest. Looking me in the eyes he said, "Then you are the first thing I am going to paint."

My eyes widened in disbelief at the declaration he had just made, "me? Why?"

He shook his head as if I had said something very silly, "Because, I can't think of a more beautiful subject to paint that will put my skills to good use. "

Immediately I felt the blood rising to my cheeks, as I was both embarrassed and extremely flattered at the same time. I lowered my head in order to hide my blushing face in his chest, and I felt it rumble as he laughed softly at me, kissing the top of my head and then resting his chin there.

We simply stood that way for a few minutes, holding each other tightly and listening to our quiet breaths in that silent, secret room that belonged to only us. It was our own precious little world that no body else would ever know how to get to.

"I love you," I murmured, drawing the words out on my tongue so that they hung in the air.

"I love you too," Jay whispered into my ear, placing a soft and lingering kiss on my cheek before returning his head to its former position on the top of mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, kind of short, but not as short as last time. Hope You're enjoying it!


End file.
